


This Unconventional Love Affair

by Inspire_me_to_breathe



Category: American Revolution RPF, Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Crack, Denial, Enemies to Lovers, Fluff, Humour, Light Angst, Love Confessions, M/M, Office AU, Pining, Sexual Tension, UST, Washington is so done, arguing and insults, madison ships it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-12
Updated: 2017-04-12
Packaged: 2018-10-18 04:57:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10609728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inspire_me_to_breathe/pseuds/Inspire_me_to_breathe
Summary: Jefferson takes a small step forward, his eyes dark, “Hamilton, you suck.”“You swallow.”__________________Hamilton and Jefferson are arguing. Again.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I have to admit this is a rework of a fic I wrote for another fandom, but it fit Jamilton so beautifully I had to post it!
> 
> Rated T for a tiny bit of strong language - I hope you enjoy!

 

There’s been a tension in the air all morning; it makes the whole of the office restless. They discuss poll projections with quick words and no emotion, type and re-type drafts with crude efficiency and drink coffee not for the taste but for the easy buzz.

Jefferson is sprawled in his chair, knees turning outwards and the inside of his legs exposed. His face is set in a permanent leer directed towards Hamilton. The other man is standing, tense, all straight lines and no softness. He knows Jefferson is staring and hates him for it, because it reminds him of the strange, heated glint in Jefferson’s eyes as he presses himself against Hamilton, night after night.

Hamilton runs a hand through his hair. He’s on the verge of something but he can’t tell what.  The sunlight seems too hot on his skin, like Jefferson’s fingertips. He wants to close his eyes and breathe in deeply - feel the cool air circulate his blood - but he can’t because he’s lecturing the whole team and they are watching him. Jefferson is still staring.

“Voters don’t like lip service,” Hamilton is saying, although the words feel heavy in his mouth. He can’t concentrate. Jefferson’s eyelashes are like spun gold in the light. “We have to state our aims and intentions clearly from the beginning.” What the hell is he saying? Words. They mean nothing. He feels sick. Jefferson stares, then checks his watch idly.

“I’m sorry, am I boring you?” Hamilton grinds out.

“No, no.” Jefferson looks up in surprise, “I don’t mind you talking for so long if you don’t mind me not listening.” He grins, staring, “A fair compromise, I think.”

Hamilton assumes he’s joking like he always does, and turns back to the others.

“Can we take advantage of Burr’s impartiality then?” Washington frowns at the whiteboard, leaning his elbows on his knees as he tries to visualise the plan.

“He said last week that he supports redistribution of education funds, but his has no one on his team with any experience of the school system,” Madison tilts his head slightly, tapping his pen against his coffee cup. He seems to be considering the idea, and, with a quick glance at Jefferson – who is scrolling through his phone – nods his approval. “If we can pick at that issue in the next debate, I think it’s very likely we’ll find major shortfalls in his preparation.”

“Of course,” Hamilton makes a note, “We can decide if-”

“What does that say?” Jefferson interrupts suddenly, still lounging in his chair.

Hamilton double takes, glancing at the whiteboard. “What does what say?”

“That.” Jefferson says, “There,”

“Where?”

His waves a hand airily, “That long word.”

Hamilton frowns at him. Jefferson stares back.

“Don’t waste time.” Hamilton snaps, annoyed. It’s too hot. He rolls up his sleeves. “Now, let’s-”

“I’m serious.” Jefferson sits forward, his bulk shifting menacingly. “What the hell did you write down?”

“Can’t you read?” Hamilton growls, even though he’s aware both his hand-writing and spelling are terrible.

Jefferson switches from staring to glaring. Hamilton supresses the urge to flinch.

He speaks quickly, forcing his tone to remain neutral, “Education.”

Jefferson inspects the word with a contemptuously raised eyebrow, and writes it down carefully. Thankfully, he makes no further comments.

But Hamilton wants to get on; wants to finish the presentation so he can sit in the cool dark of his apartment and let his mind go blank. No doubt Jefferson will correct his spelling mistake later when he stumbles through Hamilton’s front door well past midnight, just because he wants to annoy his colleague one last time before the morning.

“So if we focus on education, then I think Burr won’t stand a chance at coming out on top.” Hamilton concludes, waving a copy of the latest polls to emphasise his point.

“That won’t help.” Jefferson is shaking his head. “Burr has a meeting with Adams that Thursday before the debate. Adams is Secretary of Education, there’s no way he’ll let Burr walk out of that room without first being bored to death on the subject.”

“And Adams is a backwards, old, faith-based economist!” Hamilton insists, “If Burr listens to him-”

“Then Burr will have half of the South in his pocket in one fell swoop!” Jefferson voices hitches to a slightly louder volume. The tension of the morning seems to be permeating everything they say. “Adams is influential, his policies have been a relative success-”

“If I wanted your opinion, I’d give it to you.” Hamilton bites out, “He’s ruined the education system and the people know that! Anything Burr cites from Adam will sour the whole flavour of his campaign-”

“Like Hell it will!” Jefferson snorts, standing suddenly, “You know, I’d like to see things from your point of view, but I can’t seem to get my head so far up my ass.”

The room is shocked into silence. Hamilton feels the urge to laugh, but Jefferson isn’t laughing. Jefferson is angry about something and Hamilton can’t work out, for the life of him, what that is. And that fact makes Hamilton angry.

To compensate, he sneers. “Well, I could agree with you, but then we’d both be wrong.”

Jefferson mouth twists into an ugly frown, “Look, Hamilton, I’ve been thinking about this and there is no way-”

“Wait, what?” Hamilton’s speaking before he can stop himself, condescension dripping from every word, “A thought crossed your mind? What a long and lonely journey.” It wasn’t his best, but Hamilton feels a primitive thrill as Jefferson takes a step closer into his personal space, his eyes narrowed.

“I won’t insult you by suggesting you actually believe what you just said.” Jefferson’ smirk is intact again. He raises a hand to lightly stroke Hamilton’s cheek, who recoils as if he’d been burnt. Jefferson isn’t deterred and steps in even closer, all the better for noticing the flaws that mar his handsome features.  The scars, the crooked smile, the slightly chapped lips. There’s a predatory look in Jefferson’s eye and his next words are delivered softly.  “Now, why don’t you slip into something more comfortable – like a coma.”

At that, Jefferson turns on heel and stalks away. The air chills around Hamilton at the sudden loss of Jefferson’s body warmth. He’s angry, Hamilton knew that, but now there’s a kind of bitterness mixed in too.

“Thomas!” Hamilton snaps, refusing to chase after the man.

Jefferson reels round, glaring, “What?” Hamilton is surprised by his expression, and hurt.

“Well, jerk, I was going to give you a nasty look, and then I saw you already had one.”

Jefferson doesn’t react, like he knows that wasn’t what Hamilton was going to say. Instead he raises an eyebrow slowly, as if Hamilton epitomises everything that bores him in life, “Oh, darling, go buy a personality.”

“Because your personality is a delight to be around.”

Jefferson laughs, harsh and vindictive, “I could eat some alphabet soup and shit out a better insult than that.”

“Do you think?” Hamilton challenges, so caught up in this competition he’s all but forgotten that Madison and Washington exist, “The smartest thing that ever came out of your mouth was a penis.”

“Spreading rumours?” Jefferson sneers, “At least you’re spreading something other than your legs.”

They glare at each other, each recalling with sudden clarity the moment Hamilton first dropped to his knees, years before they even came onto this campaign. Washington shifts uncomfortably as is he’s contemplating breaking them up, but it’s too awkward.

“Weren’t you going?” Hamilton folds his arms defensively, and Jefferson notices. “If I throw a stick, will you leave?”

Jefferson takes a small step forward, his eyes dark, “Hamilton, you suck.”

“You swallow.”

Jefferson slaps Hamilton.

It hurts like a bitch, and continues to sting even after Hamilton’s rubbed at it.

“That probably does count as cruelty to animals, but I don’t give a shit.” Jefferson fumes.

“Oh, I’m sorry, was I supposed to be offended?” Hamilton wants to punch him in retaliation but doesn’t want to stoop to the same level. Besides, the waves off anger coming off Jefferson suggest if Hamilton _does_ start a fight, he’d lose.  “The only thing that’s offending me is your face.”

“Is your ass jealous of the amount of shit that comes out of your mouth, Hamilton?

“Guys!” Madison yells out suddenly, standing up to stride in between them. Jefferson tries to dodge around him but Madison plants himself firmly in the way, looking incredibly unswerving for such a tiny person.  “Stop acting like children.”

“But he’s a dick!” Jefferson protests and Madison rolls his eyes, because it’s clear to everyone but the two men what the problem is here.

Madison exchanges a hard look with Hamilton, who sighs reluctantly, all the fight leaving him, “Jefferson, what’s the matter? I _know_ you’re upset about something.”

“You _don’t_ know me.” Jefferson snarls, refusing to back down.

“I know when you’re lying,” Hamilton retorts, “Your lips move. Can’t you just be godamn honest for once?”

Jefferson says nothing.

Madison turns to Washington for help, and so the older man stands up to address the two men in his most authoritative manner.  “If you two don’t sort out your differences in a civilised manner, this campaign will be a clusterfuck.” He says bluntly, and then sits back down again, pleased with his contribution.

But Hamilton knows it’s a lost cause, “Sir, we have absolutely nothing in common,” he explains.

“Yes, we do, you piece of shit.” snaps Jefferson, “We’re both in love with you.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! If you liked these insults, check out http://inspire-me-to-breathe.tumblr.com/tagged/haminsults ;)
> 
> Come say hi on tumblr!!


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